Page 127 of The Bad Wedding Date

“What?”

“To not go easy on him. I can give you the respect you deserve along the way, but if you ask me to give him a tap on the wrist and to send him on his way, I’m going to struggle with that.”

I pressed my hand over his beating heart. “Don’t underestimate me. There’s a force to be reckoned with behind this sweet face.”

“Don’t I know it.”

42

Charlotte

Two days went by in that hotel room. Fraser didn’t leave my side other than to head out for food I craved that room service didn’t have at hand. I’d always loved a McDonald’s cheeseburger or two in times of stress. The posh steak and vegetables on offer didn’t have the same appeal. I wanted crap, and Fraser went willingly to make sure I got it. He made every other man I’d ever met seem pathetic in comparison.

On day three, it was time to put my plan into action.

My plan. Not his. Not Wade’s, Ray’s, Dean’s, or Joey’s.

Mine.

I’d spent two years with that arsehole Penn Ridgely. I knew how to get him right where I wanted him. We may have spent six years apart, but a leopard never changes its spots.

Although Penn was definitely more of a cheetah.

“Are you ready?” I asked Fraser, who was looking out of the floor to ceiling window at the city below. His legs were parted, his arms folded across his chest, making the white shirt tight across his broad back.

He didn’t turn around when he answered, “Are you sure you want to do it this way?”

“One hundred percent.”

He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing me with a look that made my stomach flutter. “I’m ready.”

We made our way out of the hotel for the first time in days, and Fraser made a point of holding my hand all the way to his car. He pulled some cash out of his pocket and handed it to the valet, who seemed blown away by his generosity.

The ride to my parents’ house was quiet. I didn’t have much to say. We’d been over the plans a hundred times and more. After the call my father had made to me, I had the perfect excuse to ask him to invite Penn over to their house. I’d told my dad that it was time for me to make peace with my past, and after a good talk with Fraser, we’d both decided that Penn had only been looking out for my best interests. We owed him a thank you. Dad had seemed surprised and impressed by my attitude and arranged to set it up as soon as he could.

We pulled into the courtyard of my childhood home, and I couldn’t help the intake of breath I made when the car hit the gravel pathway, and Fraser slowed to a crawl.

“Impressive,” he muttered, taking it all in.

The white stone building looked like England’s version of the Home Alone house. The white pillars by the front door framed the half-circle porch, and the giant fountain in front of it showed off all the money my parents had to anyone they deemed worthy enough to be invited to the Grants’ abode.

My old bedroom window sat on the first floor, in the far-right corner of the home. I stared up at it, my youth flashing before my eyes as though I’d never left. Penn had been a part of this world back then. He and I used to make out on the bed that sat just below that window. We did other stuff, too, and that thought sent a repulsive shudder through me—one that caught Fraser’s attention.

“Did someone just walk over your grave?” he asked.

“Old ghosts.”

He rested his hand on my thigh and squeezed it as he turned the steering wheel and drove to the front porch. “Don’t worry about those. They’re already dead.”

Looking over at him, I offered a soft smile. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

I leaned over to gift him with a soft kiss, and memories of his mouth caressing every part of my body that morning invaded my thoughts. With a soft hum of appreciation, I pulled back and licked my lips.

“Time for me to use the power of my family name to my advantage like the rest of them do.”

Fraser’s attention was on my mouth before his eyes drifted up to meet mine. “Give them hell. I’ll be right where you told me to be, waiting.”

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